It takes time
by mrs mari black
Summary: The after effects of the war have changed many lives. Filled with loss and regrets, can two former enemies find a common ground and rediscover contentment? DM/HG  rated m for safety
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **i do not own these characters or harry potter, i'm simply borrowin them from dear jk for a little while:)

**It takes time.**

**Chapter 1: late nights**

Hermione bolted upright and wiped away the tears which had left silvery trails along her cheeks. Her eyes had a glazed appearance and she visibly shivered as the cold night air slowly chilled her bare arms. Another nightmare? If only it was that simple, but unfortunately it was not the terror of imaginary figures which kept Hermione awake night after night, it was the memories.

Hermione stretched and pulled her unruly mass of bushy curls out of her face. Shaking her head softly, as if in an attempt to rid herself of the vivid images which tormented her, Hermione pulled on her dressing robe and slowly made her way to the kitchen.

"Nearly a year…" she mused. Nearly a year had passed since the war. Nearly a year had crawled by since Hermione's parents were tortured and murdered before her very eyes while she lay bound and gagged, unable to do anything to help them. Nearly a year had passed since Harry Potter, her closest friend and sole true confidant died in order to save the wizarding world, taking with him the most evil wizard of all times and saving countless innocent lives. Nearly a year had passed but it was much, much longer since Hermione Granger had had a full night's sleep.

As the kettle began to whistle, Hermione was pulled from her memories in search of tea bags. She rummaged in the closest press but to no avail. "Typical", she muttered as she turned towards her box of tea leaves. Ron had given the box to her as a joke at Christmas, hoping to make the pretty brunette crack a smile. He had even summoned a pair of thick glasses and a bottle of sherry, and adopted a very professor Trelawney like persona as he attempted to read 'deep into her future'. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought of that idiotic woman, but snorted as she recalled the image of Ron wrapped in shawls and trying to act all mystic. "Good old Ron" Hermione smirked. She had not had many reasons to smile since the war but despite her curt responses and distant expressions Ron had constantly tried to put the sparkle back in her eye. And had constantly failed miserably…. But he still tried and that's what mattered to Hermione.

Moving to the stiff couch in the library of grimauld place, where she had resided since the war, Hermione opened her latest book and began reading to while away the hours until the sun rose….

Draco sipped his fire whiskey as he sat alone in the library of Malfoy manner. A cloud suddenly moved in front of the moon casting the room deeper into shadow. His eyes glazed over as he started into the fire, his thoughts on another time and place. Sleep did not come easily to Draco and when it did, it was filled with the monsters of his past.

Images of his father, spread eagled and broken, his mother, beaten and bloody and Voldemort's cold heartless red eyes, staring sightlessly upwards swam before him but these were not the images which tormented Draco. No, rather these were the images which comforted him and allowed him some meagre amount of rest. The images which haunted him were far worse and he only wished that he had been able to prevent some of the atrocities he had seen.

"Pureblood", he snorted at the thought. There was no such thing. It had taken him years to realise it but now the message had truly sunken in. There was nothing pure about the blood that had run through his father's veins. And he felt like the true mudbloods were the ones like him, those who had been tainted by the blood of men like his father.

"How could anyone believe that stuff?" he silently questioned himself, even before the war had started. Unfortunately the threat of his father's wrath had always prevented him from showing his true feelings, forcing him to become a miniature copy of the vile man responsible for his conception. Draining his glass, Draco grabbed the bottle and poured himself another generous measure of amber liquid. Most men drank to relax, but Draco only drank to forget….

"Nearly a year…" was the last coherent thought that passed through Draco malfoy's head before he lost consciousness. Nearly a year, yet the memories were still as vivid and distressing as the days they happened…..

A\N : well thats the first chapter! a little dark perhaps but it won't stay that way! so please review! even constructive critism is appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione screamed a terrified, broken cry as she jerked awake. Bile rose in her throat as she bolted upright. Wave after wave of nausea hit her as she dashed to the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet before she proceeded to lose the contents of her stomach. It was like this every morning. However it was worse this time because instead of seeing the lifeless, broken forms of her parents and closest friends, last night Hermione had relived "the capture".

Hermione relaxed against the bathroom wall, trying to catch her breath as tremors wracked her body. She closed her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks, with some glistening drops clinging to her full dark lashes. Faces loomed in her mind as she once again relived the month she spent in captivity, completely at the mercy of a handful of masochistic death eaters.

The golden trio had been travelling on their search to find horcrux's when they were ambushed in a forest near London. Harry had been battling a masked death eater when Ron was struck down by Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione had witnessed Ron's attack and she quickly dispatched the death eater she was duelling with to run to his aid. Ron's condition was deteriorating rapidly; he was bleeding profoundly and began to lose consciousness. Hermione reached him quickly and immediately activated his emergency portkey, which was set to deliver him straight to St. Mungo's. Unfortunately Hermione had been too preoccupied wit Ron's condition to notice a pair of death eaters sneak up behind her.

Yaxley disarmed her, while Mulciber simultaneously sent a hex toward Hermione to bind and gag her. As she helplessly fell to the ground, her eyes frantically searched the surroundings for an escape route. Hermione locked eyes with Harry. His desperate roar rang through the clearing when he saw her position, alerting the death eaters to his discovery. Bellatrix laughed as she conjured the Dark mark. Harry ran in a vain attempt to reach Hermione, as Yaxley and Bellatrix tossed hexes at him, but Mulciber had already grabbed Hermione and side along apparated her to Bellatrix's personal safe house.

Bellatrix shrieked with demented laughter as she circled her latest captive.

"Well, well, well… it looks like the 'brightest witch of our age', is really just another pathetic, worthless, snivelling, idiotic mudblood! Did you really think that the Dark lord wouldn't win? You stupid, pitiful, wench!" Hermione left out a muffled squeal as Bellatrix kicked her in the ribs.

"You think that hurt mudblood? You don't know what pain is! Crucio!"

Hermione bit her lip in a weak attempt to hold back her screams but before long her bloodcurdling shrieks filled the room.

"Where were you and the precious 'boy-who's-going-to-die' going? What are you looking for? Where did you send the ginger ninja?" Bellatrix smirked as she applied crucio after crucio. The interrogation continued for hours, but Hermione remained silent. She subjected her body to countless crucio's to protect Harry's secrets. It wasn't until Hermione was in too much pain to move from her position on the cold, hard floor that Bellatrix stopped the interrogation. Then she gave Hermione to the Yaxley and Mulciber, who used her body again and again until she finally lost consciousness. A few minor healing charms were cast over her as she slept so that Bellatrix could start the torture anew the next day.

This cycle continued for 3 weeks, 5 days and 18 hours before the order of the phoenix managed to locate and free Hermione, unfortunately Bellatrix managed to escape unscathed. Hermione refused to disclose what happened to her during her captivity but assured the order that she had not revealed any of their secrets. Her body was riddled with scars as a result of her captivity, leaving only her face completely clear of the proof of her loyalty to Harry.

Hermione sighed as she examined her bare arms. Words were carved onto her soft pale skin, words such as filth, whore and mudblood. The words were her constant reminder of the prejudices of the wizarding world and they hurt. At first Hermione had been deeply upset by the words, crying every time she saw them but that had quickly given way to anger. The anger was enough to empower her, and her fierce expression and vicious retribution prevented any mention of blood lines in her presence. "Mudblood." she snorted at the thought. If they believed her heritage was any reason to belittle her, Hermione knew that her power and knowledge was enough to put them back in their places.

Sighing again as she thought of the injustices of the world, Hermione roughly wiped away her tears and began to prepare for another long day of work in the research section of the unspeakables. The work was enough to occupy Hermione's overactive brain and challenging enough to keep her distracted from her memories. Her work saved her from her impending depression and she thanked Merlin for it every day. Hermione eventually moved from her place on the floor, cast a glamour to hide the majority of her scars and began to prepare herself for the day ahead….

Draco groaned and turned his face from the dazzling light which streamed through the library window. Bile rose in his throat as a result of a combination of his alcohol consumption and the dream he had been having. Draco gingerly opened his eyes and shakily moved towards the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and removed two potions, one for his nausea and one for his severe hangover. Eying them warily, Draco popped the cap off of the first vial and drank it in one go. The potion burned his throat and his eyes watered as a result of it but he immediately felt his stomach settle. He then turned his attention to the second vial he was holding and downed it with renewed enthusiasm, barely grimacing at the putrid taste.

Draco sighed as his eyes glazed over. "The Revels…." he hadn't dreamt of them for a long time. At first his memories had haunted him every night but as more and more atrocities occurred he was able to concentrate on other, less sadistic horrors. Draco had witnessed his first revel two weeks after his father forced him to join the death eaters. It was just after Christmas when his newly acquired tattoo burned horrifically, calling him to the Dark Lord's side. It was to be his first meeting and Draco was shaking with anxiety. He didn't have his father's prejudices or his sadistic nature, both of which were required to truly please the Dark Lord. Draco was almost glad of his death eater mask as he joined the circle of death eaters in a misty clearing in the middle of an eerie forest in east london. He had paled considerable and began to sweat profusely when he saw the scene in front of him and it would have meant sudden death if another death eater had seen his reluctance to participate in the meeting. A teenage girl with bushy chestnut hair was lying in a crumpled heap on the ground in the centre of the circle.

"We have recently added a new recruit to our ranks and I believe that with his help we will soon enlist a new generation of death eaters. As a reward to Draco for being the first of his age to join our ranks I have prepared a special gift…" the Dark Lord's hissing voice chilled Draco to the bone and he barely repressed a shudder as Voldemort turned his cold penetrating gaze towards him.

"Come forward Draco, you will enjoy this…" the hissing voice continued. Draco's legs shook as he stumbled forwards. "Oh Merlin no, please no, sweet Merlin!" Draco thought as his traitorous legs trembled uncontrollably.

"Draco I want you to punish this filth for her attempts to steal magic, I believe that she closely resembles the bane of your existence, Potters mudblood-whore. You should enjoy this…" the death eaters grew excited as Voldemort spoke to Draco, their anticipation was palpable in the small clearing and it made Draco nauseous. Draco's voice was barely a whisper as he answered Voldemort "Yes my lord."

Draco's wand trembled as he pointed it towards the weeping girl in front of him. "Oh gods, Merlin, anyone stop this…" he silently begged.

It became clear after a few moments that nobody was going to come save the trembling muggle girl and Draco willed himself to just do it. Just curse the girl. It wouldn't hurt him after all would it? But he couldn't do it. His hand shook and he was sweating like he had just run a marathon but he couldn't curse the defenceless girl in front of him.

"Draco, Draco, Draco, I expected so much more from you, but if you won't curse this swine then you shall suffer until you do. CRUCIO!" Voldemort laughed maniacally as Draco writhed under the force of his spell. Before long Draco's screams rang through the clearing and the death eaters watched the scene as if transfixed.

"Now Draco you will learn to punish those who are beneath you. They are vermin, unworthy of our presence, yet they continue to sully the blood of our kind. You will do as I say Draco or you will suffer the consequences! Imperio!"

Draco's mind became muddled and hazy, and then a voice broke to the surface. "Crucio her Draco…" it was the only thought that occupied his mind and he was powerless to disobey it. Draco heard his own voice repeat the curse and saw his hand move towards the intended victim. Her shrieks of agony were instantaneous. Draco was forced to torture the girl again and again. Then lord Voldemort ordered Draco to do something which caused him to hate himself. Something which caused bile to rise in his throat every time he looked in the mirror. "Draco take her, use her, show her real power." Draco was still under the influence of the imperius and was once again powerless to refuse Voldemort's command.

Once Draco had completed his orders the Dark Lord lifted the imperius and Draco collapsed to the ground.

"Go home Draco, and do not disappoint me next time!"

Draco managed to apparate home before he became violently ill. It had been the worst night of his life, worse than when his father had beaten him within an inch of his life for disobedience, worse than when his father had beaten his mother for protecting Draco. Every other horror that Draco had faced so far paled in comparison to the Revel. Draco felt contaminated.

If professor Snape had not followed him home, Draco would not be alive. Snape helped him to deal with his guilt and offered him another option. By becoming his apprentice Draco would be excused from further Revels as the impurity of rape could cause complications with some of the potions. Draco immediately accepted the offer but couldn't escape the sensation of his skin crawling. His guilt trapped him in a web of despair which caused him to fester in self loathing.

That was the night which haunted Draco continuously until the war caused more memories to take its place, it was also the most poignant memory which still haunted him. The other memories faded a little but that memory still made his skin crawl and his stomach heave.

Draco opened his eyes and steadied himself. He only had an hour before he had to go to work. Draco frowned as he contemplated the day ahead of him. Another monotonous day filled with paper work and idle chatter. It was an easy job which left Draco with nothing but time to think. Sighing deeply, Draco moved to the shower and began his daily routine.

"Who says 'it'll look better in the morning'? Fucking liars!" Draco muttered as he allowed the hot water to wash over his pale muscular body.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and as I'm currently completely broke I definitely do not make any money from these stories! ****J **

**Chapter 2: Not everything looks better in the morning**


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I'm just playing around with some characters I borrowed from our friend JK. Not mine though, definitely not mine…_

**Chapter 3. Long-time no see.**

"Hermione? What are you still doing here? You scared the life out of me!" Laura, a junior unspeakable, gasped as she tried to recover from the shock of seeing her boss sprawled over a stack of forms in a seemingly deserted office.

Hermione blinked owlishly up at the young blonde girl she had come to recognise as a friend. She swept a stray lock of curly hair out of her face irritably as she straightened in her chair. She glanced down at the stack of forms pilled on her otherwise neat mahogany desk and sighed regretfully before straightening her notes and placing them on the right hand corner of her unpersonalised desk. All of the surrounding work stations were littered with pictures and knick-knacks but her desk held nothing but parchments, quills and an ink jar. Once her forms were filed at the end of the day it would appear that the desk was just an abandoned work station, just as it had appeared when Hermione had claimed it over a year ago. Sighing again she turned to face Laura.

"Laura! Umm hi. I was just working through some equations on the viability of mixing practices such as transfiguration and potions in order to increase the stability of some of the more volatile potions... Wait, where is everyone?"

Laura smiled as she realised that Hermione had once again lost herself in her work and had completely detached herself from the real world. It was a well-known fact in the department of mysteries that once Hermione was involved in a project, it would take raging hippogriffs on steroids to move her from her office. That was the reason Hermione had moved so rapidly through the ranks and was now the youngest witch to be conscripted into the top ranks the department had to offer. A little known fact was that along with her normal role of secret projects unspeakable, Hermione was also trained as part of the stealth and defence section, the elemental section and the advanced practice section in virtually all disciplines.

As the saying goes, the best things come in little packages, and this was most certainly the case with unspeakable Granger. The petite witch barely reached 5'4" in heels, with chocolate-coloured doe eyes and slightly-less-than tame hair. Her curvy hour-glass figure was hidden by long, fitted robes that covered her from ankle to wrist. She was a powerful little witch, but nothing in her appearance, except the hard look that occasionally appeared in her eyes and general lack of facial expression, would suggest that to the average wizard.

Realising that Hermione was still waiting for an answer, Laura shook her head slightly as she replied, "Well as its half-way through lunch, I would assume that most people are strolling around diagon alley or stuffing their faces in the leaky cauldron by now. Have you eaten anything since this morning?"

Ever since Laura had started working in the department of mysteries, she had secretly considered it her job to ensure that Hermione ate at least once during her ridiculously extended working day. Her boss may have the temperament of an angel (unless disturbed while doing paper work, or when death eaters were mentioned in any way, shape or form) but had the tenacity of a tiger when concentrating on her latest project. It was actually the sheer number of times that Laura had come across Hermione asleep on the stack of paperwork when she arrived to work in the mornings that had driven the two women to become friend in the first place.

Hermione grinned at her friend sheepishly as she rose from her chair. She groaned blissfully as she stretched like a cat before she turned gracefully towards the younger woman.

"Well, now that you mention it, I am a tad peckish... Oh and there was a new shipment of books due to arrive in flourish and blots this morning!"

Laura grinned at Hermione as she watched her retrieve her purse from her desk. It still astounded her how different Hermione was now, compared to when she had first arrived. True the beautiful brunette still rarely smiled and never wore anything that revealed more skin than her wrists and ankles, but at least she no longer had a dead look to her chocolate coloured eyes. Laura remembered hearing about the mysterious war heroine when she had first started working at in the department. She had been unnerved by Hermione's lack of emotion and general disinterest in conversation, until a colleague had mentioned that it was completely normal behaviour for her boss. Even then there was an aura of mystery about her boss. The only thing anyone could tell her was that Hermione had been deeply involved in the last war and had not only been orphaned but had also lost most of her friends. Nobody seemed to know why she always wore long robes, even in the stifling heat of summer and due to her rumoured skill with muggle and magical means of combat, nobody dared to ask her. Hermione was a mystery and lacked interest in office gossip and general chit chat. The only time she seemed to come alive was when she was surrounded by research. Laura had been completely mesmerised by Hermione's aura of silent strength and was exceptionally interested in her story. However, one year later and all she knew about her quite companion was her love of books and her fierce intelligence. It was unusual for her to know somebody for so long and not really know anything about them but Laura just considered it one of the many interesting aspects of knowing Hermione.

"Well what are you waiting for then, off with you"! Laura laughed. In the back of her mind she acknowledged that she was the one person in the office who had the guts to boss around a known war heroine, even if it was in jest.

And with that Hermione waved and turned on her heel with a resounding pop.

Then sun was scorching as Hermione mad her way through the crowded street towards flourish and blots. A lone bead of sweat made its lonely voyage from her hairline to the collar of her wine robes. She hated the warm weather. It was always such a nuisance to cover her scars when even a light sun dress would be too warm. She sighed as she acknowledged once again that she could simply wear more revealing clothes and trust her glamour to hide her trophies from the war, but there was always the danger that somebody would notice the unnatural texture of her skin caused by the air-brushing effect of the glamour. She didn't want to have to explain it to anybody. She knew that it was unusual for a witch to walk around in full length robes all of the time but it was less noticeable than the glamour. And combined, the robe and the glamour ensured that she appeared completely normal. Casting a quick cooling charm wandlessly, she continued on through the crowd.

With a grim expression, she wondered if people would ever stop staring at her. She didn't want to be a celebrity, but ever since her position in the previous war as Harry's right-hand witch had become common knowledge she had developed the same star status as Harry himself. She had always been sympathetic to his inability to do anything without the entire wizarding world hearing about it, but now that she found herself in the same position, she had discovered a new respect for his tolerance of stupidity and ignorance.

Oh Harry… Merlin she missed him. The daily reminders of his sacrifice did nothing to help the grieving process. She sighed audibly as she entered the book shop.

Her lips quirked slightly as she inhaled the scent of new books and relished the silence of the room, before moving slowly towards the back of the shop. Like everything else, the comfort she received from books had greatly diminished since the war, but it was still a part of her. She was not as passionate as she once was perhaps, but she still enjoyed filling her brain with new information or slipping into a world of fictional characters. She shook her head slightly to clear it of her negative train of thought before browsing the overflowing shelves before her. She read the titles in murmured tones and she progressed along the aisle.

"Ouch!"

Hermione gracefully caught herself before hitting the clod stone floor of the store. The other person was not as lucky. She leaned forward to offer her hand to the blonde figure on the flagstones. As she did so, her uncontrollable hair obscured her vision. As they both straightened up, she caught her first glance of the man she had accidently thrown to the ground…

Draco had been having a terrible day, just like every other day really. Still strongly shaken from the resurrection of his memories, he had trouble settling down to his day as head accountant in Malfoy industries. He could easily have hired an accountant, but he didn't trust strangers with his possessions. Well that and he needed something to do during the day.

By lunchtime he had a pounding headache and struggled not to yell at the idiots in the office next to his, who seemed to be incapable of compiling the numbers of galleons spent in the various departments of the company. "_Really?"_ He fumed_. "How difficult is it to add up a bunch of receipts?"_

Draco took a deep breath and decided that it was time to escape the office for a little while. With a loud pop he reappeared in front of the book shop in Daigon Alley. The dark cloud over his head seemed to disappear as he entered the store. However he was so distracted by the thought of having to return to work that he didn't notice the slim figure coming towards him until he was staring up at her from the floor.

Straightening up, with a faint blush staining his cheeks, he swallowed a gasp as he realised who he had bumped into. He groaned inwardly. This was just what he needed after the dream he had last night. Oh merlin, he hadn't seen her for over a year. Not since the night he had stunned the death eater behind her in the battle of Hogwarts.

"_Oh Morgana, what do I say to her? Hey Granger, long time no see?"_

_A/N hey! Sorry about the slight abandonment of the story! The good news is that I'm back. I'm aware that the style of this chapter differs from the others, however this is intentional as it reflects the change in the story :P That aside, I sincerely welcome CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, but please no flames. Thoughts and opinions appreciated. (R&R please! :D)_


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